


Cradle Me

by nomadichead



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:30:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadichead/pseuds/nomadichead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The event happened 10 weeks into the pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The event happened 10 weeks into the pregnancy. They had both been stood in the kitchen, Patrick rinsing the dishes and Pete leaning against the counter, complaining that it was too hot to be wearing clothes and really Patrick should be wearing nothing but rubber gloves when it happened.  
  
6 hours later, Patrick had stood in a hospital corridor listening to a doctor tell him that the effects of the pregnancy on Pete's body were more severe than in a typical pregnancy, that Pete's body just wasn't designed to carry children to term, and whilst Pete was stable they’d lost the baby. They’d lost the baby. They’d lost the…  
  
When Patrick visited Pete in his room, he was still in recovery, asleep, unknowing. Patrick pressed his lips against Pete’s forehead and wished for him the sweetest dreams he’d ever have.  
  
-  
  
Pete and Patrick were inevitable really. At least, that’s what everyone had told them when they finally decided to make it official because really, there’s only so many times you can sleep with someone before something has to give.  
  
It had been Patrick who suggested it when he walked into his house one day to find Pete sprawled on his couch with Patrick’s t-shirt on, eating cereal from the packet and flicking through sitcoms and yeah, he was pretty much in love with that guy.  
  
“I’m pretty sure that’s gone stale by now.” He’d said, dropping his coat on the floor and tapping the side of Pete’s head. The bassist had half-heartedly cocked an eyebrow and lifted himself up, allowing the other man to sit down before dropping his head into Patrick’s lap.  
  
“I’ve eaten worse.” Pete murmured, nuzzling the denim of Patrick’s jeans with his nose before dropping a kiss there. Patrick smiled to himself and ran a hand through the dark hair in front of him and 2 days later everyone knew that they belonged to each other.  
  
-  
  
According to the doctors, there had not been the correct pairings of chromosomes due to the lack of female sex cells present in the conception of the foetus which had led to the complication. Patrick had nodded, desperately trying to remember what his biology teacher had once taught him and Pete sat silent, face ashen and he looked so tired.  
  
When the doctor left, Patrick had pressed his forehead against Pete’s, eyes searching for some form of expression, some kind of comfort. He had been met with nothing and Patrick felt like it was hard to breathe.  
  
“Pete. Don’t leave me.” Except Pete hadn’t answered and that night for the first time in 15 months, Patrick felt like maybe he was alone.  
  
-  
  
“You work too hard, babe. Patrick? Come to bed with me.” Pete’s voice came out as a whine and if he hadn’t been talking about sex for the past half an hour, Patrick would easily have believed his boyfriend had suddenly become 5 years old.  
  
“You’ll complain if I don’t finish.”  
  
“Sometimes I think you’d rather fuck that damn computer.”  
  
“Yes, except it’s anatomically impossible to stick your dick into a laptop, Pete.” The younger man quipped, exhaling loudly when he felt a pair of arms loop around his neck and lips press against the shell of his ear.  
  
“So stick your dick in me instead.” Pete exclaimed, and Patrick could almost hear the smile in Pete’s voice as he turned to look at his boyfriend.  
  
“You’re so going to pay for this later.” Patrick murmured, lips hovering close enough to feel the smirk he received.  
  
“Mmm, I hope so.” And Pete leant forward, connecting their lips with a soft moan.  
  
-  
  
He took the test 3 weeks later.


	2. Chapter 2

Patrick thought he had misheard Pete at first because really his hearing not being perfect was more likely then Pete suddenly developing a fucking uterus. Pete looked agitated, huddled under a hoodie that really could’ve fit two of him in, biting the edge of his thumb and watching Patrick expectantly.  
  
“Fuck off.” It wasn’t what he’d planned to say to the news that he was about to become a parent, except Patrick hadn’t ever really expected to hear it from Pete.  
  
“I’m not. This isn’t a fucking joke. I’m not trying to mess with you here, I just. Patrick.” And Pete sounded so desperate that it he could have said anything at that moment and Patrick would have been there for him. He folded himself around Pete’s taller frame and tried to ignore the tears on his shoulder and told him it was going to be okay and they’ll sort it, whatever’s going on.  
  
Later that night when Pete curled himself on their bed, eyes sore and flickering, Patrick ran a hand over his lower abdomen and shook his head because this kind of thing didn’t happen.  
  
-  
  
Pete didn’t talk to him for 25 days. After 6 days, Patrick phoned the doctor who said that everyone dealt with grief in different ways and to just give it time. So he waited, watching as Pete ghosted about the house like a shadow, like he had simply ceased to exist. At first Patrick didn’t want to leave him alone and trailed his footsteps, trying to ignore the wrench in his heart for everything they’d lost.  
  
Pete carried out his routine, eating and showering and late nights sat with his own thoughts, but he didn’t share it with the world anymore. He just glazed over everyone like he couldn’t even see them and Patrick felt sick to his stomach every time he saw that empty expression. He caught him pressed against the crib once, knees folded up against his chest, hands shaking as he scrubbed furiously at the tears tracking their way down his face.  
  
“Pete.” Patrick had choked and went to place his hand against the side of Pete’s cheek but was met with air as Pete pulled away. Pete left the room and Patrick dismantled the crib.  
  
-  
  
“It’s going to be a girl.” Pete said, a smug grin spread across his face as he hopped up onto the kitchen counter. Patrick shook his head and reached to an overhead cupboard, half hoping it would knock Pete out as the door swung open.  
  
“And what makes you so sure?”  
  
“I had a premonition.” The way Pete made it sound so factual had Patrick almost believing him as he placed his hands either side of Pete’s legs, abandoning the half finished coffee on the side.  
  
“Oh yeah? Is that so?” Pete nodded enthusiastically, wriggling himself from side to side. He leant forward, kissing the tip of Patrick’s nose and knotting their fingers together.  
  
“Yes it is so. I think we should call her Pete Wentz because _no one_ would be expecting that.”  
  
-  
  
Patrick was woken in the middle of the night by metal hitting stone. He jerked awake, eyes sticky with sleep. It was late. The noise came again, quieter this time but still piercing through Patrick’s drowsiness and he didn’t have to think twice about what it was.  
  
The kitchen was wrecked. It was like a personal hurricane had destroyed the room, a sea of broken crockery and glass and metal at his feet. It was kind of poetic in the right light. Patrick glanced about him, flicking on the light so that he could identify normality in the chaos. It didn’t take him long to identify a sight he knew all too well huddled in the far corner of the room. He picked his way through the mess, cursing when he misjudged a step and cut along his foot.  
  
Pete looked awful. His eyes were sunken, almost black as he observed what he had done, struggling for breath as his heart hammered inside his chest. He remembered what it was to breathe. Patrick wrapped his arms around the shaking body, hoping that if he pressed himself close enough that Pete’s anguish would bleed onto him and he could take it away. Pete’s voice sounded like it was crawling from his throat, dry and broken.  
  
“Patrick. What did I do wrong?”  
  
And for the first time in 25 days, Patrick cried.


	3. Chapter 3

They never really teach you how to deal with grief. They explain it, the steps, the impact, the techniques but they don't explain how to stop feeling empty. How to stop feeling like anywhere would be better than there. Patrick read the books and the descriptions and tried to apply it to his life. He continued to live and listed 10 happy things at the beginning of each day and attempted to smile a lot, but really it was just a mask, and nothing made it stop. Pete left him 35 days after the event.  
  
-  
  
"Patrick, I love you, y'know."  
  
Pete's voice sounded distorted and tinged with more worry than usual. His face was pale and he pulled at Patrick's arm, fingers tight enough to bruise.  
  
"I know. Pete, what's going on?"  
  
"Say you love me too." Patrick didn't really understand. It was early, the Sun not quite illuminating their bedroom, shadows still decorating the walls with the last tendrils of night.  
  
"Don't be fucking stupid. You know I do. Pete, it's early, go to sleep." Pete just nodded and got out of bed, picking up a pen as he went. Patrick found him asleep at the kitchen table the next morning with ink smeared across his face with concentration.  
  
 _then came a baby boy with long eyelashes._    
  
-  
  
At first Patrick didn't comprehend. Everything was empty, piles of Pete's things now absent from his house, the smell of Pete only faint, but he was there. Pete didn't leave because Patrick couldn't be without Pete. At first he convinced himself that the lyricist would be back, that it was just a bad time. The first night came and went, and so did the second, and the third. On the fourth Patrick went through to Pete's voicemail.   
  
"Pete where the fuck are you? You can't just... Pete?"  
  
Patrick left all the lights on and left the TV blaring and pretended he wasn't completely alone.  
  
\---  
  
 **One Year Later**  
  
\---   
  
The engagement didn't come as a surprise to Patrick. He'd seen it progress through early paparazzi snaps to holding hands to declarations of love.   
  
The pregnancy made Patrick feel like his insides had been torn out and paraded for the whole fucking world to see. He should've seen it in the way Pete smiled gently at her, in the way his hand rested just too low on her belly. Patrick should've seen it in the way Pete never called or asked him for permission. Patrick should've seen it.   
  
The fans loved it and sent congratulations to the happy family and asked Patrick if he was going to be godfather. Patrick spent the best part of a week doubled up over the toilet, hard liquor burning down.   
  
-  
  
"Patrick. Oh god." Pete's breath came in panting moans, sweat beading at his temple as he thrusted into Patrick, eyes falling closed when it all became too much.   
  
"Pete, Pete look at me." The younger man's voice was stilted, hitching when he felt Pete bite hard at the skin of his neck, dick twitching. Pete kept his eyes closed and when he came, hard, he didn't look at anything.   
  
Pete didn't stay for long, grunting a response at Patrick and pulling away when a pair of lips pressed against his. It had been a few weeks of this weird in-between. Late night phone calls and late night fucks. No happy endings and no forgetting. Limbo.  
  
"One day you're going to forget me." Pete's sounded grated, like he was the secondhand smoke of a cigarette.   
  
"One day you're going to love someone else."  
  
They didn't talk again for 2 weeks and Pete met Ashlee.  
  
-  
  
"Baby clothes are so fucking cool. Check this out." Pete was bounding round the kitchen, baby-grow in hand, smile bright enough to be contagious.  
  
"Yeah, and they're also expensive. How many did you buy?"  
  
"Perks of being a rockstar." Patrick smirked, placing the shopping bags on the kitchen table. Pete stuck his tongue out, picking up the phone.  
  
"Hey mom! Yeah, we're all good. Guess what I got today..."  
  
Patrick smiled as he watched Pete wander off into another room, tiny t-shirt clutched in his grasp. He shook his head softly, looking at the bags of soft toys that his boyfriend had insisted they purchased and felt butterflies in his tummy. They were going to be a family.   
-  
  
The event happened 10 weeks into the pregnancy.


End file.
